Smut, and Other Disturbing Thoughts
by artemis lecter
Summary: What happens when Bella and Edward stumble across the many fanfictions that have been written about them?


Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga or any of its characters, and no money is being made from this work.

A/N: This is all in good fun—no disrespect intended to any authors. Enjoy!

* * *

"You're kidding."

Bella turned her head away from the Calculus homework she had been focusing on to look at Edward, who was uncharacteristically sitting in front of the computer monitor in her bedroom. Even more uncharacteristically, he seemed to be staring at the screen with his mouth hanging open in what Bella assumed was shock of some sort.

"What is it?" She got up from her chair and walked to peek around his shoulder. He had a webpage open. Bella couldn't see what was so shocking; it seemed to be nothing but words all the way down the screen.

"What?" she asked again.

"It's just. . . this is silly. Did you know there are people writing about us?"

Bella's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "About us?"

Edward pointed to the screen. "See? This one is about you and I going crazy and attacking the pack in La Push." Bella shook her head; that was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. The Cullens and the pack were absolutely civil to each other. Honestly, where on Earth would someone get the idea that they would attack each other?

"And some of these are even worse," Edward said darkly. "It seems there are a lot of people out there who would rather you had chosen Jacob instead of me." He scowled as he said this. Bella laughed.

"Okay, I love Jacob, but we're friends. Anything else is just. . . weird." She shook her head at the strange imagery.

"It gets worse. There are these stories—fanfictions, I guess they're called—that have me and Rosalie together. Or worse, me and **Alice**." A slightly revolted look came upon his face, and Bella laughed again.

"I don't see what you're getting yourself so worked up over," she said as he continued to scroll through the vast amount of fictional stories and poems that had been written about them. "They're just stories."

"Ugh! Oh, ugh!" Edward suddenly exclaimed, pushing backward in the chair in an attempt to get away from the computer screen. Alarmed, Bella looked at it, trying to figure out what had offended Edward so. She read the page he had been on, grinning and then finally laughing until tears streamed down her cheeks.

"It's not funny," Edward growled from his spot on her bed, still disgruntled. "There is no way, **ever**, that I would have a romantic relationship with that dog. The smell alone. . ."

Bella wiped tears away, still laughing. "I dunno, Edward. Jake's not bad looking . . ."

"Hush."

Bella continued scrolling through the website, chuckling on occasion. "You're not the only one they've tried to turn into a homosexual. Jacob and Seth together. . . ew, Billy and Charlie? And here's one of me and Alice." She was starting to think that some of the people who wrote this stuff were sick. Some of them were rather smutty. Really, this was what people thought about all day?

"Lots of stories about you and your family being human," she told him. "Some of this is kind of interesting." She clicked on the story that paired herself and Alice together, curious as to what could possibly be so interesting about that. Her eyebrows shot up as she skimmed through it. She hadn't even known girls could do some of those things together. She closed it quickly, the blush becoming obvious on her cheeks. Edward noticed and grinned.

"See?"

"Yikes, there's one of me with Jasper." Bella shuddered. Alice would kill her.

"Alright, come on," Edward said. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of her bedroom and down the hall before she'd had time to protest.

"Where are we going?" she asked, a little miffed with being dragged about like a ragdoll. Edward turned and grinned at her.

"My brothers and sisters have to see this."

* * *

"WHAT?"

"EW!"

"There's no way. . . no offense, Bella, but you're not my type," Jasper said wryly. They had all gathered in the large dining room at the Cullen's house, peering down at the laptop Edward had brought in to show his family the stories about them.

"Who thinks of this stuff?" Rosalie wondered aloud. "There are so many. Thousands."

"People with nothing better to do," said Alice, still chortling over a story they had found in which Jacob had somehow gotten pregnant, despite the obvious laws of nature.

"There are way too many people writing themselves into stories so they can be with you guys," Rosalie said to Jasper and Edward. Jasper looked mildly surprised by this. Alice rolled her eyes at the look on his face.

"Don't be so modest. You're gorgeous."

"Some of these aren't very nice," Esme murmured.

"And just look at the grammar," Edward commented wryly. "Have these people attended English classes?"

"Is there seriously a story in here in which I'm fat, and need Emmett to coach me?" Bella said disbelievingly. She glanced down at her flat stomach, searching for excess weight that was not there. The Cullens all burst out laughing.

"Points for originality?" Emmett said, chuckling.

"Alice. I would like to be turned into a vampire now, please," said Bella through gritted teeth. Alice shook her head.

"Probably not the best idea right now, Bella. Besides, if we let you kill every author who ever made fun of someone, there wouldn't be many authors left."

"I don't want to kill them. Just scare them a little."

Edward chuckled, wrapping his arms around Bella. "You know, a couple of these stories aren't bad," he murmured in her ear. He pointed down at the laptop they had pulled the site up on. Bella looked to see a story about the two of them. The rating on it was mature. Edward opened it up. Within the first few paragraphs Bella started to blush.

"I think we could learn something from this," Edward said quietly. He took her hand and led her toward the stairs, none too inconspicuously. Bella blushed harder when Emmett laughed his booming laugh. Carlisle and Esme stood awkwardly, not wanting to say anything to their son who, after all, was almost a century old and far mature enough to do whatever he pleased. Only Rosalie spoke.

"Ew."


End file.
